The Girl in the Chair:

Outside the world is a dull grey, street light is peeking through my heavy curtains. The window is open but there is no breeze and the air in the apartment is hot and humid. I've got a rocking chair sitting off to the side of my bedroom. I never use it but there is never dust on it, something is keeping it clean. I've seen the figure of a woman in the chair on a few occasions, but who this woman is I have no clue as the chair has been mine since I was born. She has long reddish brown hair that lays in her lap as she sits in the chair, her eyes are a piercing green that would look more natural on a cat. It was on this night that I saw the woman like I’d never seen her before; something drew me to the window I think it was the just rising sun as I’ve always loved watching the sun come up. Then I saw her, she was standing under the street light and was just barley there, I was sure my eyes were playing tricks on me as no one can seem that transparent. and in the blink of an eye she was gone. It was the girl from my rocking chair. This was the first time I’d ever seen her standing, her hair reached to about her waist and she was looking away from me, but it was her.

Everyone now and again she still comes to see me, she sits in the rocking chair and just watches me as I type, play games or anything I happen to be doing. She never speaks but you can see what she is thinking, she cares that I live and I count her as one of my friends. When ever I see the rocking chair moving on its own I know that I’ve got company and its a comfort to me.

The Old Man:

I live above a massage parlor that is open 24 hours a day. Part of my rent is to keep the place in good clean shape. I know most of the regular clients and all of the masseurs. Nearly everyone is really great to know and we joke and talk like old friends, but there was one old man that came in every week on Thursday morning promptly at 10am. Every week Jenny, a blond beauty would give him a neck massage and a foot rub, she once told me that he was 74 years old. On occasion I work the front counter if the place is really busy. It was Thursday and about 10am, all the girls were with people and we were waiting for Mr. 10am (that’s what we called him as he never gave a name and always paid in cash) as Jenny was out sick. I knew that he would not be happy to hear that jenny was out and I was worried that it would be me breaking the news to him. The oddest thing happened that day--- he never showed up. After 5 years of never missing one week he didn’t show up. The next day in the obituary section of the paper was his photo. He’d been hit by a car only 3 blocks away from the massage parlor. The news spooked everyone. Thursday the following week, 10am. Through the door waked an old man, barley there. Jenny who was sitting in the lobby while I attended the counter looked at him in horror. She nearly jumped out of her skin as he walked in front her. He reached the curtain that spit off the hallway and looked back at her. He then mouthed something, my guess is something like “are you coming” as he’d said that when Jenny was keeping him waiting before he passed. Jenny got up and followed the ghost through the curtains.

Every week from then on he shows up just like he always did at 10 am on Thursday.